


Undone

by Blue_Sparkle



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 06:59:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle/pseuds/Blue_Sparkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Koschei is abducted by a group of self-proclaimed vigilantes of the universe and put on trial for the crimes committed by his alleged future self, the 'Master'. </p><p>hints at Theta/Koschei (Doctor/Master)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undone

**Author's Note:**

> see at the end for notes and an (spoiler-)illustration. I should probably warn for angst but every specific warning would also be a spoiler so proceed with caution? ^^'

They dragged him into what looked like a bastardization of ancient amphitheatres and courts, tribunes build out of raw logs stood tall in a half circle. Mismatched lanterns and torches cast a harsh light, giving the pre-dawn sky above a blood red colour. 

People were sitting in the tribunes, half hidden by the shadows, giving the impression of being one big formless creature, only the multitude of voices made Koschei guess that it was actually an assembly of at least a hundred individuals. 

He could make out a word in the collective buzzing of their conversation; it sounded angry but maybe that was just how their languages sounded. 

Koschei’s head hurt too much to focus on it; he hadn’t slept in what felt like days. There was no way of telling how much time had passed since he woke up in the confinement of a cage, throat aching from chemicals. He had no idea who those people were and why they had gone through the trouble of abducting him in his sleep, sedating him and bringing him to Rassilon knows whatever planet this was in a tiny spaceship. 

The guards weren’t cruel; they had ignored him during the journey in the spaceship’s cargo bay, only bringing him some water occasionally. Each time Koschei had tried to get them to tell him what was going on, they hadn’t even bothered to glance at him. He had spend the time taking slow and deep breaths to keep himself from panicking. 

When they arrived on this planet they had to practically carry the boy, as he got too weak to walk on his own. A rag had been tied around his eyes and only taken off right before stepping into the arena’s half circle, to confuse and scare him and to prevent him seeing what this place was, probably both. 

The captors came to a halt at the centre and looked at the audience, waiting for something. The whispers grew louder, people seemed to point at them and Koschei could feel each pair of eyes on him. Up close the creatures all seemed to have similar anatomies to a Time Lord, sitting upright with the right amount of heads and limbs at the very least.

“Leave him,” came the command from above and the guards obeyed immediately. Koschei fell to the ground with a yelp as soon as the captors released their vicelike grip on his arms; after crouching in an uncomfortable position his legs just couldn’t hold him up anymore. The people above him snickered, gloating at the state he was in.

The boy gritted his teeth and tried to ignore them and the sense of foreboding that started to creep on him. He rubbed at his aching calves and glanced around, plotting out possible escape routes.

“Silence!” the vile voice made the mutterings ebb away and startled Koschei. His head snapped up to the tribune right in front of him. A short figure rose from its seat to look down on him. Squinting against the light Koschei could make out an ugly face staring back at him. It seemed to be a man, as far as he could judge based on what little he could see of him. His skin looked wet and blotchy, vaguely reminding him of an ugly little toad. He’d have made a snarky remark in another situation, but right now Koschei’s sense of self-preservation was much stronger than his need to divert from his nervousness.

The man and the young Time Lord stared each other in the eye for minutes, the anticipation of the audience growing as they waited for someone to say something. The man seemed to wait for a reaction but Koschei held perfectly still, not wanting to give away his emotions and fear. Finally the man’s mouth stretched into a sly grin.

“Well… _boy_. Surely you must wonder why you have been brought here from your comfortable home in such a rash and crude manner?”

Koschei didn’t reply, he wasn’t sure how his voice would sound after such a long time without use and he didn’t want to suffer the humiliation of having to croak out some words. The man didn’t care apparently, as he started to rummage around on the inside of his jacket.

“Ah yes…” he said after pulling out a parchment roll and looking over it. The old paper was just for show, as everything else Koschei had seen while being dragged from the ship to the stadium had looked too advanced. This and the dimly lit tribunes seemed to serve only as some sort of intimidations; he had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Koschei of the noble house Oakdown,” he read off the paper, dragging on the vowels in all the wrong places. “Member of the Prydonian Academy, home planet Gallifrey in the consolation of Kasterborous. Is this correct?” He glanced back at Koschei who jerked his head in a small nod. How did this people get the information? Why?

“You are a Time Lord… Renegade, exiled from your planet...” Koschei wanted to open his mouth to protest, but the man talked on: “Known under many names of which ‘the Master’ is your chosen title and what you’re known as on most worlds?”

“No, that’s not me,” he managed to call out but the toad-man interrupted him again. “Guilty of innumerable crimes, across the galaxies, such as kidnapping, murder, attempted genocide, unlawfully taking control of sentient civilisations, destructions of planets, use of weapons of mass destruction, theft and many many more, too many to list now, as we’d spend years in this court.”

“That’s not… Your information is wrong!” Koschei was shocked by the accusations; he didn’t even have the power to do any of these things, why would anyone get the idea that he did them? Nobody paid him any mind as the people around him started chatting again, sounding enraged.

“So we have gathered here, members of many worlds and people which have suffered from this individual’s crimes. We have taken it upon ourselves to perform the duty of putting him to justice, as his own people have proven time after time that they are incapable of doing what is necessary!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Koschei shouted louder but again the judge ignored him. “It is obvious that he deserves the things he’s done paid back.”

The sense of dread was getting stronger, developing into actual fear as Koschei’s eyes roamed over the audience, trying to find anyone who’d listen to reason. He was hardly more than a child, how could they believe what they were saying? 

“The obvious solution is also a permanent one. But, we have decided to use the available time travel to ensure an even better execution of our verdict.”

Permanent? That meant… death? Koschei jerked back, nearly falling over. His guards didn’t rush forwards to hold him down but there wasn’t really anywhere to run to. “I am innocent! You must believe me, I can prove it,” he screamed but his pleas went unheeded again. 

This situation was getting out of hand, how illogical were these people to believe what they were saying, why didn’t they just listen? He desperately wished for Theta to be here, he’d know how to get out of this situation, he was better with words, and people actually stopped and listened, even when he was lying through his teeth. 

“Please-“ 

“The verdict is as follows: the boy Koschei is to be executed before he grows to be the criminal he is now. That way he not only will suffer the punishment for his crimes, he will also be prevented from ever reaching the age in which he commits them, erasing all of it from time!” Koschei sobbed out a laugh. “That’s not how it works…” but his voice was drowned out by the cheering of the crowd.

There was no reasoning with these people; they probably just wanted the entertainment of a public execution. Primitive. And frightening. His only way out of this was to run. 

Koschei’s eyes darted from side to side, quickly looking for somewhere to go. The tribunes were arranged in a half-circle in front of him, so the only way out was behind him.

“The execution shall take place right here.” More cheers. A quick glance to the sides showed that the guards were standing right beside the tribunes, too far away to catch him should he bail. 

“The death can be anything that leaves no doubt of the result and works on his kind.”

Nobody was behind Koschei, he could just run and hope that he’d find a place to hide before they caught up with him.

“The execution will be performed by our kind witness and man who made this court possible…”

But it was too easy, why would they leave the back unprotected? Unless. 

“By the ruling of this court, Koschei of Oakdown has been found guilty as charged!”

The crash of the judge’s hammer echoed through the suddenly silent arena, just as a heavy hand landed on Koschei’s shoulder. He twitched, but didn’t move away, slowly moving his head to see who it was.

He hadn’t heard or sensed the man coming, and yet he looked like a Time Lord, his heavy coat not hiding the uniform he was wearing. It was that of a Gallifreyan general, well worn but neat, looking old and obviously had been in use during a war. 

Koschei looked up at his face, trembling in fear but daring to hope for a rescuer. The man’s face looked harsh and somehow tired as he stared back at him coldly. His eyes were so familiar and old, but Koschei couldn’t remember where he might have seen him before. The stare made him feel uncomfortable.

“Who are you?” he asked, uncertain now, whether this man was really going to be a help.

“I am the Master. I am you in the future” he said, looking entirely too unemotional for someone who just found his younger self in danger of being murdered.

Koschei’s eyes widened as he heard the name. Was this the criminal those madmen had talked about? But that meant that he _had_ to save him, why was his fear growing instead?

“Help me?” he hated how scared he sounded. 

The Master arched an eyebrow, a slight trace of remorse in his eyes as he looked over the shivering boy. 

“I am afraid that this would go against my plans. You see, I’m here to perform the execution.”

And before Koschei could fully register the words, the Master leapt forwards, pushing him to the ground.

The back of his head connected with the floor with a load crack, making him scream in pain. The Master didn’t pay it too much mind; he’d have experienced much worse in a few years. The scream turned into a surprised gurgling sound as his hands closed around the boy’s delicate neck, fingers moving to find the pressure points that’d end this ordeal quicker. 

The boy’s hands flew up to close around his; he looked up, puzzled, afraid, trying to find out whether his older self would do what was essentially suicide, the Master recognised the thoughts that were showing on his face. Koschei quickly reached the conclusion that this was a trick and tried to relax into the hold.

“Don’t bother,” the Master said, pushing his fingertips deeper into the pale skin. “Your respiratory bypass won’t help you against someone who knows about it.”

Koschei had recognised the position of his hands, too. He tried to scream at him, his hands trying to pry the chocking ones of his neck. But his hands were thin and weak, never used for any kind of combat, while the Master’s were strong and used to holding weapons and killing, he didn’t stand a chance.

Noticing this Koschei raised his arms up, punching at the Master’s chest, trying to scratch his face, distract him enough to push him away. He was smaller, his hands not quite reaching his face in that position. 

The Master watched him struggling impassively, watched as he squirmed underneath him, trying to throw him off and get away from there, slapping and kicking, arching his neck to get a gulp of air. The double heartbeat under his hands quickening to a painfully fast pace. It was good, the struggling. While the boy was just hurting himself he’d also use up his oxygen quicker. 

He was getting desperate in his fight to stay alive, just like the Master would have done in his position. His kicks and punches were getting harder, bruising both of them and nearly making the Master wince a couple of times. It was good that he was so used to physical violence from the War, a younger regeneration would have been thrown off by now.

The struggle of the small body underneath him reminded him of a scared little bird, wings trashing against hard against the cage, with no chance to actually get out. The Master nearly felt sorry for him. 

A few minutes later his struggle was finally ebbing off, lips turning blue and tears falling from the corners of his eyes. Koschei’s wheezing attempts to breath stopped and his eyelids fluttered. He stared up at the Master, accusing him silently.

Not having to worry about more punches the Master leaned down towards his young self, whispering soothing words at him. There was no need to be more cruel than necessary.

“Sleep, Koschei, believe me, it’s for the best,” he said “Trust me, it’s better for everyone, there won’t be any drums, you know? They are so very faint now, nothing compared to what you’d have felt.”

The Master looked up at where the air was blurring a few yards from the arena.

“And it helps Theta,” he added after a moment of consideration, looking down and meeting Koschei’s eyes. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, he didn’t really believe it, and the Master probably wouldn’t have at any point. “I swear, your death spares him so much pain and despair. Why would I lie now?”

The wail of a TARDIS’ materialization filled the air as the boy’s head rolled to the side. The Master glanced up to see the familiar blue box appearing and carefully slid Koschei’s eyes shut with his fingers and stood up flexing his hands.

He took a few steps away from the corpse just as a cry reaches them.

“KOSCHEI!” a boy darted out of the box, racing past the Master and towards the still form, skidding to a halt and falling to his knees. He stared at his friend in shock and then proceeded to check for vitals frantically.

“Koschei, Koschei, wake up, please!” He cried, as he couldn’t find a pulse or breathing. “Kosh, dearest _please_!”

The Master watched them as another Time Lord stepped up to him. They stood still, watching the boy break out in tears and begging the other to wake up. The judge and the people from the audience were trying to get away from there as soon as possible, now that they had seen their spectacle and sensed the arrival of someone who might take revenge. 

“I should have known it was you,” The newcomer says, his voice sounded hoarse and as tired as the Master suddenly feels. “That doesn’t explain the ‘why’.”

The Master looked around to meet the man’s gaze. He looked barely older than the boys, if not for the old eyes, the eyes of every Time Lord who had seen the war. The face was new, high cheekbones and brown hair falling over his forehead in a boyish manner. He’s wearing tweed, like a professor, and a silly little bowtie. Of course he recognized him as the Doctor.

“You can guess,” the Master says, trying to keep his eyes open. He just wanted to go to sleep now, his insides felt chilly and his head hurt.

“You were too afraid to actually kill yourself so you decided to do… this,” the Doctor’s voice shook in cold fury as he gestured towards their young counterparts. They stared at each other until the Doctor’s face softened, anger fading away and leaving a fearful expression. 

“Come to the TARDIS,” he beckoned. “We can patch you up there.” The Master wondered just how much time had passed for that Doctor since he had seen him, to act like this, so forgiving. But he followed him anyway. Why should he question the Doctor’s uncharacteristic affability now? 

“It seemed like the easiest solution. That way nothing I did will ever have happened, which is a mercy for everyone involved.”

The Doctor stared at him for a while. “You really wanted to commit suicide but were too much of a coward to actually kill _yourself_ , didn’t you?” he asked, sounding resigned, as if it’s something he had to deal with in the past. The Master wondered what his future self could have done to make him react that way, he had never left any doubts about how much he clung to life before. 

They reached the TARDIS and the Master slumped against the wood with a sigh of relieve, each step had drained him of his energy. It wouldn’t be long before he’d pass out. 

The Doctor had the consideration to kindly look away while he tried to gain enough strength to stand without a support again. It took the Master longer than he’d expected, the TARDIS’ wood surface at his back was warming up and he could hear the soft droning of her struggling to upkeep the paradox that was his continued existence. 

“Haven’t you thought about the consequences?” the Doctor asked as soon as the other leaned away from the TARDIS. “You’ve practically erased everything you’d ever done. I am surprised that you haven’t ripped a hole in the fabric and space and time with this.”

“Everything is going to be perfectly fine,” the Master replied. He had thought this through, not that the universe’s fate would matter to him after this. The Doctor’s eyes were hard and terrifying as he looked at him; they showed the same coldness that had already been developing in the eyes of the last version he had encountered during the war.

“And what about him? Will _he_ be fine?” he pointed at the arena, where Theta was cradling the still body in his arms. The Master winced, even after all these centuries the thought of his dear Thete suffering was painful.

But as he looked away and back at the Doctor’s face his regret faded. 

“Do tell me, Doctor, look me in the eye and tell me that your entire life wouldn’t have been so much easier without me, following you, interfering in your business, making you doubt your morals every day? Making you feel like you betray _someone_ no matter what you do? And answer honestly.”

The Doctor opened his mouth and closed it again. They watched each other for a while and the Master shook his head “Thought so.” He was getting tired of this; he had no need to explain himself to the Doctor after all.

“He will get over the pain… He is still young.”

“And me?” the Doctor’s voice sounded scared now. “You too, you always dealt with my… death quite easily.”

“No,” his hands grabbed at the Master’s lapels dragging him closer as he didn’t have the strength to struggle. “You have never really died, I always knew that you have a way out! Why do you keep doing this to me?” 

The Master looked up, the panicked expression he could detect on the Doctor’s face was a small satisfaction although he couldn’t bring himself to cherish it properly. 

“You don’t have to die, we can work something out!” hope filled the Doctor’s voice. “Koschei’s death must have created a paradox or an alternative time line, so the TARDIS should be able to keep you alive until it stabilises! You will survive this!”

The Master’s doubtful look made him ramble on. “I promise you, I swear I won’t let you down, I will save you. You are important to me, I can’t just let you die. This may be hard to believe, but you… the future you and me worked it out, things happened.”

He was getting desperate, with tears filling his eyes. It was a strange feeling, to finally see the Doctor broken like that, and yet he wouldn’t be around to savour it, and it probably wasn’t even him who did that.

“Who have you lost in the war?” he whispered. The Doctor swallowed back a sob. “Far too many good people. Too many friends. I don’t want you to become one of them.”

His hands wandered up, cupping the Master’s face. “Please, come inside of the TARDIS.” His voice was hoarse and heartsbroken. The Master closed his eyes. Surely the Doctor must know just how much of a struggle this would be for his TARDIS. There was no way this would work.

“So you’re offering me a possibility to stay alive?” “Yes, _yes_! You will be save from the Time War and the Time Lords, we can work everything out for you.”

“A life in your TARDIS, with you,” the Master smiled weakly. “Oh, I used to dream about this.” He raised his hands to wrap them around the Doctor’s, the simple motion making his hearts race, nearly making him dizzy. “I take you up on that offer.”

The Doctor let out a half-sobbing laugh in relieve, as if he’d expected the Master to rather die. 

“Then we should look bring you to a room where you can rest immediately! Come along.” 

The Master held the Doctor’s soft hand in his as he was dragged towards the TARDIS’ entrance. It would not work, he was certain of it. But he couldn’t bring himself to rub that in and destroy the Doctor’s hope now. 

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the new and familiar hand holding his as he stepped through the door.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my picture that inspired me to write an entire story around it: http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/31065354651/there-is-a-story-for-this-and-maybe-ill-even  
> I will illustrate the entire thing as soon as I have the time.
> 
> Thanks to Inja, for being an wonderful beta and patient despite idiotic mistakes


End file.
